Happiness and Hedonism
by Catherine Wheels
Summary: Burrs says that hedonists can never be happy, but Nadine isn't quite sure. -The Wild Party, oneshot-


"Sorry, kiddo."

Nadine rubbed her side irritably. "That's alright. Excuse me…" She had decided that there were too many people dancing in this one apartment. Not to say that she wanted them to stop, she simply wanted them to be more careful.

There was an old sofa by the large window in the studio area. It seemed oddly out of place amongst the rest of Oriental furnishing. Maybe it was going to be thrown out… The man sitting on it seemed very much with the theme of waiting to be tossed aside. He was staring fixedly into nothing, holding on too tightly to a half-empty shot glass.

"Can I sit down?"

He looked up at her, his blue eyes slightly bloodshot. "Why not?"

"I'm Nadine." She introduced herself with a broad smile.

"Oh."

"Um… Aren't you going to introduce yourself?"

"Do you really care?"

Nadine frowned. This man wasn't so nice… This didn't fit with her pre-conceived notion that all New Yorkers were suave and responsive, even if slightly arrogant. Even Queenie, the hostess of the party, had said hello.

Well, not so much as hello… more like… "What's this" and "never rush liquor or love". But that was good advice! Right? Sure. To Nadine, who had never been far from her home town of Poughkeepsie, that was excellent advice.

"Well, yes."

The man smiled slightly, and Nadine was aware that there was white makeup left around his mouth. "I'm Burrs."

"That's a funny name." She realized too late that she had spoken without thoughts to back her words up.

"I'm a funny guy."

"Are you?"

"Professionally, yes."

"Professionally?"

Burrs grinned wryly. "Do you know what that means?"

"Yes. Of course. You're a clown."

"Congratulations. You can put two and two together."

Nadine was distinctly uncomfortable now, sitting beside this sarcastic man. But if she just left, he might be upset. _'Maybe'_ she thought, _'This is just how he is with everyone. Maybe he actually likes me… Or not…'_

They were silent for a while. Burrs sipped his drink while still staring off with an odd intensity. "You see that blonde over there?"

"The hostess?" Nadine lifted her legs onto the couch, leaning back.

"Yes."

"What about her?"

"That slut will spend the whole night dancing and flirting and drinking, and none of it will be with me… I can assure you." He finished his drink, slamming it down on the old upholstery, fixing his strange glance on Nadine.

She didn't want to stare back, but found herself completely consumed by his silent anger. "I… I… Is that… I mean… Slut?"

"Yes. Slut. You know, I wanted a cat."

"Slut? Cat? What do those have to do with anything?"

Burrs shook his head. "I'm just saying. She's going to do everything I don't want her to do. We argued for three weeks about a cat. She doesn't like 'em. Thinks they're stuck up. I don't like dogs. She likes dogs… She's a whore."

Nadine blinked, shifting again, trying to smooth out her white dress. It didn't feel right to be showing so much skin in front of this man who apparently hated women. "Um… Did you make a compromise?"

"Like what, a fish? No."

"Oh."

"What are you doing here? Isn't it Tuesday?"

"Tuesday of June."

"Hm. I don't keep track of the month. I get paid by the day. Say, sweetheart, will you get me another drink?"

Nadine nodded slowly. "Alright." She took the glass from his hands, surprised at the roughness of his skin. Why would a performer have such harsh skin? She looked him over once, and decided that it wouldn't be a good idea not to come back.

She wandered out into the midst again, careful to avoid the dancers as she searched for anyone with a bottle.

"Who are you looking for, babe? You look a little young for that drink." A man in a light brown suit with a slick smile took her arm and lead her away from the crowd.

"It's for Mr. Burrs."

"I see. And do you know how much Mr. Burrs has had to drink tonight already?"

"No."

"Hm. Now, I could do this, but you should tell me who you are in case somebody asks me why I gave liquor to a minor, alright?"

Nadine smiled. This was more like what a New Yorker should be. "I'm Nadine. I'm Mae's little sister from Poughkeepsie."

"Nice to meet you, Nadine. You can call me Jackie. Now… here…" He walked into the kitchenette and returned with a bottle of light brown liquid. "I don't know what Burrs was drinking, but he'll have to make do with scotch."

"Thank you," Nadine smiled as Jackie filled the glass.

"You be careful with yourself now, love."

"I will." Nadine held the glass tightly. "I just hope I don't spill it."

Jackie grinned and took her arm in his. "I'll walk you. Studio, right? That's his favorite room."

"He wanted a cat. He told me." Nadine babbled as they walked through the dancers. "But I don't know why he told me."

"That sounds like him," Jackie said quietly, "Just… be careful of him. He's a bit of an odd one. Not that you shouldn't talk to him, just… be careful. Here we are."

"Thank you, Jackie," Nadine said with a bright grin. "I hope I'll see you again."

"Come and find me."

"I will." She turned to the studio, sitting down on the couch again, handing the glass to Burrs. "Here you go."

Burrs did not respond for a moment, only took the glass and finished in one swallow. "Nadine…"

"Yes?" Nadine brought her legs closer together, leaning in. She wouldn't have admitted it to anyone at the party, but she did find this odd, unsocial man slightly handsome. His dark, slicked-back hair, crisp white shirt, frightening focus…

"What do you think of Jackie?"

"He was nice. He got me your drink."

"Did he now…" It was more of a statement than a question. "Do you know what hedonism is, Nadine?"

"Um…"

"It's not a requirement to know."

"Then no. I don't."

"It's mindless self-indulgence. People like Jackie just go based on what they want. They won't ever be happy. Queenie is the same way. Jackie and Queenie…" The thought seemed to overtake him like a sickness. "That whore!"

Nadine moved away slightly, setting her feet back on the floor. "Mr. Burrs?"

"What?"

"You don't seem like a hedonist."

"I'm not. What of it?"

"Well…" Nadine twirled her long hair with her fingers, "You don't quite seem happy either."

Burrs faced the younger girl, an expression of disgust and confusion. "What do you mean?"

Nadine fretted, "You look angry and seem jealous. My friend back in Poughkeepsie had a beau like you. He wasn't a nice boy, and he tried to keep her away from us, so she said goodbye to him. But he would stare like you."

"I'm not jealous. Jealous people don't have any proof. Queenie is a slut, and it's a well known fact. Similarly, people who live just by what they want are miserable. You're what, fifteen? What do you know of the world?" His voice took on a harsh edge. "But I love her. No matter if she doesn't want to get a cat, or if she sleeps with Jackie… God damn Jackie…"

"Mr. Burrs… I hope you find some sort of contentedness." She stood up, pulling her dress to mid-calf. "I'm going to dance."

"Wait."

Nadine turned. "Yes?"

He took hold of her hand and kissed it softly. "I'm not… quite happy." His eyes met hers, their ferocity again sweeping her off her feet. His desperation was apparent.

"I didn't think you were," she whispered, staring, nervous.

"Will you help me?"

"I don't think I can…" She wrapped her fingers with his, leaned in and kissed his lips, the warmth of his breath on her cheeks.

There was nothing more said between them. Nadine released her embrace and took a step away. The giddy, shocked feeling followed her as she stepped out into the mill of dancers and looked for the light brown suit.

"Nadine!" Jackie called out for her. "Didn't I tell you about him?"

Nadine nodded. "He was a bit… odd."

She did not look back, but she knew that Burrs was watching her with that strange single focus.


End file.
